(For Father’s Day, I decide to get my father a new pot because the old one we have is on its last legs. I go to a home supply store and immediately find a pot that suits my needs on a display of individual items. I notice that the item was once in a pack of 12, but since it’s on its own, it’s being sold for 1/12th of the price. I take the pot up to checkout.)

Cashier: That’ll be $400.

Me: What? No, it should be $33. That’s what the sign said.

Cashier: It’s $400.

Me: In its set, maybe, but this is on its own.

(I flip it over and see “1 of 12” written on the sticker.)

Me: Yeah, right here, it’s 1 piece out of 12, so it should only be $33.

Cashier: It’s $400.

Me, realizing I’m getting nowhere: Tell me, do you really think someone would sell an average pot for $400?

Cashier: It’s $400, but if you’re so sure, I’ll send price check over. Just go wait where you found it.

(I go back to where I found the pot and wait there, looking around for the price checker’s arrival. Five minutes pass, and no help. Another five, and a small family comes over near the display and looks at something. An associate comes by and helps them, and ten minutes after that, they leave with their purchase, and the associate leaves, even though I asked for help and they assured me someone would be over shortly. Ten minutes after that, I’m beyond tired of waiting and go up to the customer service desk. By the time I finally get seen, it’s been another 15 minutes.)

Me: I tried to buy this pot, but the cashier kept insisting it’s $400. They told me to go wait by where I found the pot and they’d send a price checker over, but I stood there for half an hour with no one coming to help me. Now, I’ve spent 15 minutes in a line with only one person in front of me, and I’m getting angry. I need a price check on this item, and I am going to stand here until I get it.

Customer Service Worker: *scans item* It’s $400.

Me: No, it’s not. The set it $400. There is a sign right by where I found this saying it’s $33.

Customer Service Worker: Well I scanned it and it says $400.

Me: As. A. Set. Not individually.

(This goes on for yet another ten minutes before I give up.)

Me: Let me speak to your supervisor.

(The CS Worker rolls his eyes but calls for a supervisor anyway. One comes over, and I explain what’s going on again, and finally someone manages to understand.)

Supervisor: I’m sorry about that. That pot should only be $33; I don’t know what that cashier was thinking trying to charge you $400 for it. Sometimes we get a damaged package and have to take everything out to check for individual product damages, then sell the items separately. He should have known this. It even says on the sticker “1 of 12.”

Me: You’re telling me.

So, a while ago, I moved in with my girlfriend and a few other roommates. We’re all females except for Roomate #1 and roomate #2. This exchange happened while I was in the shower.

Roomate #1; Hey, (My name,) I need to shower.
Me; Alright, I’ll be done in a minute.
Roomate #1; No, don’t worry about it.
I figured that he’d left, so I shrugged it off and continued washing my hair. Note; I can’t see anything but color and movement through the glass because it’s frosted glass, and super foggy. All of a sudden, the door whips open, and roomate #1 is standing right outside. He gets into the shower, and I’m really surprised. After a second, I jump out and start yelling at him.
Roomate #1; Woah, woah, what’s the big deal?
Me; You can’t just get into a shower with someone!
At this point, my girlfriend runs in. I’m covering myself with a towel, but from her point of view, I’m standing in a bathroom with a dude, naked.
GF; What the f*** (My name?)
Me; (GF,) this isn’t my fault.
GF; Of course it isn’t. *storms off* (note, we have a completely committed relationship, but roomate #1 has gotten super close to me, touching my arms and stomach when we’re in the kitchen or car, so my girlfriend wasn’t overreacting)
Me; (GF,) wait!
I start to go after her, but roomate #1 grabs me and tries to kiss me. I slap him because I don’t know how to punch, and high-tail it away. I find my girlfriend in the kitchen with roomate #2, who’s comforting my girlfriend. I explain everything, and just as I’m nearly done, roomate #1 runs in, now luckily dressed in shorts and a shirt. Roomate #2, who works out frequently and is known for being super protective of his friends, glares at him when he comes near me. Roomate #1 ended up being thrown out (nearly literally) with a black eye. My girlfriend and I are still together, thankfully.

(My wife and I walk into a fairly new gelato shop.)

Employee: Hi, would you like to try any of our flavors today?

Me: Sure. Could I try [Flavor 1]?

(He hands me a spoon with a small amount of gelato. I taste it, and it’s pretty good.)

Employee: Would you like to try any other flavors?

Me: Well…okay, thanks. Could I please try [Flavor 2]?

(He hands me another spoon with the second flavor, and while trying it, I look over his head to read the menu behind him to decide what to order. The menu lists three sizes of gelato: one scoop, two scoops, and something called “Sampler,” which is the most expensive.)

Me: And what is the sampler?

Employee: That’s what you just did.

Me: I mean the Sampler on the menu. What’s in the Sampler?

Employee: You just had the sampler.

Me: Wait…you mean I just ordered and ate something without realizing it?

Employee (looks at me like I’m an idiot): Well, no, sir, you haven’t ORDERED anything yet.

(At this point, I’m completely confused, so I try to start over.)

Me: On your menu, behind you, it lists three sizes. One scoop, two scoops, and Sampler. That’s what I’m asking about. What is the Sampler?

Employee: It’s what you just did.

Me: …

Employee: Do you want to try another flavor?

Me: No, I’m just asking a question about your menu. You know what, never mind. I’ll just have one scoop of [Flavor 1], please.

(He finished the transaction, looking baffled and suspicious the whole time. I went back a couple months later, when it was staffed by a non-confused employee. It turns out “Sampler” just meant three scoops.)

This sort of convo happened frequently to the employees even the first day the store my cousin works at reopened. The reopening is displayed on many signs throughout the store.

Customer: I’m looking for (item)
Employee: Oh, uh, I think they’re probably in aisle 2 or 3. If it isn’t ask someone else, sorry.
Customer: You should know that!

My cousin also says the electrician reported being asked several while walking through the store. He was carrying electrical tools although he had been in and out of the staff area.

(I’m in the break room early one morning cleaning out my water bottle. I’m 22 weeks pregnant, it’s Friday, and I’m tired. I’m sure I look it, too. An older woman from another department that I’ve seen around but don’t know personally comes up to me and starts a one-sided conversation.)

Older Lady: …that’s what I don’t understand about young people . . .they can work….

(As soon as she says “young people” I completely tune out. I’m in my early 30s, so I’m technically a millennial, and like most millennials, I’m pretty tired of hearing older people complain about us. Unfortunately, she doesn’t notice. She is very close to me, blocking any escape. She continues on about this for a bit before getting some ice at the ice machine, which promptly spews ice all over the counter.)

Older Lady: They really need to fix that!

Me: *in my head* If you put your container right under the spout, it won’t do that….*what I actually say* Yeah….

Older Lady: *cheerfully* Have a nice day!

Me: . . .you too.

(She wanders off leaving me wondering what the f*** just happened.)